Wednesday, December 26, 2018

'Fool Chapter 25\r'

'TWENTY-FIVE\r\nTHE KING SHALL BE A FOOL\r\nAlas, your humble fool is the world power of France. Actually, France, Britain, Normandy, Belgium, Brittany, and Spain. Perhaps more than, I contri barelye a bun in the ovennt seen Cordelia since breakfast. She can be a terror when left to her give birth devices, yet she keeps the empire in functional order and I adore her, of course. (As has unendingly been the case.)\r\nGood Kent had his lands and title restored, and was also condition the title Duke of Cornwall, and the attendant lands and properties. Hes retain the dimmed beard and glamour given him by the witches, and seems to perk up convinced himself that he is young and more vibrant than the multitude of eld he carries on his back.\r\nAlbany retained his title and lands and signed an oath of devotion to Cordelia and me, and I trust he volition be true to it. Hes a decent, if dawdling chap, and with appear G aceril in his ear, his will be the expressive style of virt ue.\r\nWeve given Curan the title of Duke of Buc powerfulnessham, and he acts as regent of Britain when we ar not on the islands. Edgar in like mannerk his title as Earl of Gloucester and returned to his home where he buried his father in the walls of the citadel temple built to his many gods. Hes started his give family and will no doubt have many sons who will grow up to betray him or simply be dolts in the image of their father.\r\nCordelia and I extend in a number of palaces close to the empire, traveling with an embarrassingly large retinue that includes Bubble and Squeak, as well as Shanker Mary and other loyal module from the White Tower. I have a c efflorescenceingly large throne, on which I command court with Drool on one side (who has been given the title of regal Minister of Wank), and my muck around, Jeff, on the other. We hear cases of the local anesthetic farmers and merchants, and I pronounce judgments, damages, and sentences. For a man I allowed monkey J eff to pronounce sentences magnetisement I was off having lunch with the queen, grown him a little plaque with heterogeneous penalties to which he could point, except that had to nail when I returned one afternoon from a lengthened Cordelia bonking to find that the cheeky little swearword had hanged the entire village of Beauvois for cheese violations. (Awkward, that, but the French understand. They are very weighty about their cheese.) Most of the season nicety can be satisfied with a bit of verbal humiliation, surname-calling, and pointed sarcasm, at which, it turns out, I excel, so I am viewed as a fair and just king and much be cheatd by my people, redden the fucking French.\r\nWe are at our palace in Gascony now, near northern Spain. Lovely, but very dry. I was just axiom to froggy Queen Jeff to sidereal day (he and Queen Burgundy are visiting), â€Å"Its lovely, Jeff, but bloody dry. Im English, I admit dampness. I feel as if Im drying out and becoming all crack ly as we speak.”\r\nâ€Å"Its true,” Cordelia say. â€Å"Hes eer gravitated toward the moist.”\r\nâ€Å"Yes, well, darling, we shant speak of that in front of Jeff, s third house we? Oh, manner! Drool has sprouted an erection. Lets ask him what hes mentation about. Had his way with a knotted oak tree on the way here. A make up spectacular tree-shagging it was, too. Knocked down enough acorns to operate the village for a week. They wanted to have a special feast day in honor of the git †advance him god of the tree-shag †more fertility symbols there than you can shake a pegleg at, innit?”\r\nâ€Å"Cest la vie,”[47] tell Jeff, in abruptly incomprehensible fucking French.\r\nLater, as I was holding audiences with the public, there entered the great hall three ancient, bent figures. The witches of Great Birnam Wood. I suppose Id always known theyd register up at some time or another. Drool ran and hid in the kitchen. Jeff jumped on my shoulder and screeched at them. (Jeff the monkey, not the queen.)\r\nâ€Å"A year has passed for witches three,\r\nAnd we are here to assimilate our fee,” said Rosemary, the green, cattoed witch.\r\nâ€Å"Oh, for fucks sake, youre on with the rhyming over again?”\r\nâ€Å"A need was filled, a herald made,\r\nFor service done we must be paid,” the witches chanted in unison.\r\nâ€Å"Just stop the rhyming,” said I. â€Å"And those rags are entirely too heavy for this climate. Youll get a rash on your warts and carbuncles if youre not careful.”\r\nâ€Å"Youve been made a king and ravish your true love to be yours forevermore, fool. We only want what is our due,” said Sage, the most warty of the three.\r\nâ€Å"Rightly so, justly so,” said I. â€Å" only if Cordelia is not enchanted to love me. She is with me of her own free will.”\r\nâ€Å"Balderdash,” said Parsley, the tall witch. â€Å"We gave you three puffballs for three sisters.”\r\nâ€Å"Aye, but I used the third to enchant Edgar of Gloucester, so he would fall in love with a laundress at his castle named Emma. Lovely lass with shattering knockers. Shed been mistreated by the bastard buddy †only seemed just.”\r\nâ€Å"Still, the spell was used. We will have our payment,” said Rosemary.\r\nâ€Å"Of course. I have more treasure than you crones could carry. Gold? Silver? Jewels? But Cordelia doesnt know of all of your manipulations, nor that the ghost was her mother, and she mustnt ever. If you agree, name your reward, Ive important kingly things to accomplish and my monkey is hungry. Name your price, crones.”\r\nâ€Å"Spain,” said the witches.\r\nâ€Å"Fuckstockings,” said the animate being Jones.\r\n'

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